Has it really been that long?

OMG - I have neglected myself. I say myself because my blog was one of my only release mechanisms for all of my crap. I think the neglect may have something to do with having another baby, Will, now 4 months old. I can't remember a time when there was opportunity to be creative, think, explore how I feel about things and just generally offload. My needs and wants have had to take a massive back seat and I'm lost in a sea of nappies and sick spots on my jumpers.

But it is lovely to see my two boys interact (which usually involves Oscar poking Will in the tummy, resulting in a huge gurney grin from the baby) and I wouldn't swap it for the world. This kind of explains why I am closing down this blog and starting another. My priorities have had to change as has my attitude to being independent for a while and so my life is taking on a new direction.

Thanks to everyone who has followed me (albeit for a short while) and be warned, I will be back...

Temper Temper....

I sometimes think back to my childhood days and realise that not much has changed. I still much prefer my own company, I'm still irritable when challenged, I can still read an Enid Blyton book with as much pleasure as I did when I was 10, I still hate sudden loud noises that make me jump, I still love jelly and evaporated milk and I STILL have temper tantrums.

The only thing that saved me from spontaneously combusting when I was but a young lass was the thought that one day I would grow up and finally find inner peace. Well, at the tender age of 36, I've decided that my naivety must be addressed.

If I had to liken myself to a cartoon character it would be the Tasmanian Devil. I am a lovable warm character who means well but who sometimes has a tendency to lose it completely at the slightest irritation. In fact, I am utterly jealous (and wondrous) of those people who never see red. What is wrong with them? Why aren't they hopping around like they've just walked through hot coals? My defense is that I am passionate and I care. The reality is that I am probably blowing things massively out of proportion and could do with taking a chill pill (or 2).

Hubby is one of those nice calm people who hardly ever loses his temper (even with me). He takes everything in his stride, is prepared to give everyone the benefit of the doubt (me included), sees the positive side of most things in life and will probably live a long and happy life because of it. I wonder why we work so well? Something about opposites attract I suppose and the fact that secretly I aspire to be like him (except for when dealing with the arseholes at HMRC).

I've analysed why I haven't grown out of my temper tantrums and I can only put it down to one thing...hormones. Why else would I wake one morning, feeling tranquil and calm and ready to forgive anyone for their annoying mistakes and habits, when another morning I can wake up and literally want to kill someone. I can't explain why I was so prone to tantrums as a small child, think it was because I was just a sore loser....

So in a bid to cleanse my soul and hopefully rid me of the tantrums for ever, I am going to list my most common blood boilers in the vain hope that I may be eternally free from hate and frothing at the mouth.

1. Middle laners on the motorway
2. Ditherers in the shopping centre
3. Ditherers in the street
4. Ditherers anywhere
5. Inconsiderate people
6. People who let you down
7. People who are arrogant and overly opinionated
8. Call Centres
9. Solicitors
10. Anyone who works for the DWP
11. People who interrupt when you're talking and finish your sentence for you
12. Kerry Katona
12. People collecting for charity in the street who "jangle" their tins at you
13. Ex-husbands
14. Women who obsess about carbs/calories/weight
15. Misplaced sarcasm

Oh well, there's always therapy....

Intervention - necessary or not?

Since my appointment at the hospital this morning, I have been debating something. Firstly, why are there so many pregnant women in the world? I thought everyone hated sex.

Secondly, how much intervention is necessary to ensure a baby is born safely into the world?

Take my situation for example; fell pregnant with my first son Jack, 11 years ago. Was greeted with the usual indifference that a first timer receives and ended up looking at a dead baby at the 20 week scan. Reason? Placental insufficiency. It just didn't work. From the moment of finding out to delivering my son (because a labour is best for Mum - who says?) I was literally bombarded with hundreds of questions about when to induce labour, what kind of pain relief I wanted, did I want to see the baby when it was born, what kind of burial did I want... I don't think I had even come to terms with my pregnancy at 20 weeks, let alone that it had ended so abruptly.

Move on a few more years and pregnant with number 2. There's not much chance of you losing a baby a second time around I was assured. well, I can prove them all wrong because second son, Oliver had triploidy, more commonly known as a chromosome disorder. This time, there was much more sympathy on offer, but still as many questions. Do you want to terminate the pregnancy, how do you want to terminate the pregnancy, do you want to be in hospital or at home when this happens, do you want to see the baby when its born etc... God, who thinks I have all the answers? Its at times like these when you absolutely can't think straight.

So, third pregnancy and this time I am offered all the care under the sun. Except I was referred to an over stretched specialist unit in Birmingham, dealing with as many foreign immigrants as english women. Thus my experience was sufficiently less great than anticipated. I don't think I saw the same Consultant twice so my history had to be repeated again and again and again. Not great when you're trying your hardest to forget. But to be fair I did receive additional care and I was scanned about 11 times (try holding in all that wee that many times) and the result was my beautiful son, Oscar.

So, finally getting to the real point here. Sitting with my shiny brand new Consultant this morning, the whole saga had to be repeated again. Lost the first two, had Oscar in Gib etc etc. Questions, questions, questions. I know why it has to be done but instead of making me feel safe and reassured, I am now thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Before today I was blissfully unaware of the pitfalls (because I had put them to the back of my mind) and now I am a nervous wreck. Talking to my Mum about all of this she reminded me that "in her day" there were no scans, no tests, no back ups and that you "just got on with it", which leads me to ask, is that better than knowing too much? How much intervention is necessary, and, if a pregnancy is just not meant to be, should it just be left to nature to decide?